Titbits Are Go!
Memory, Or the Fullness of Time
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On visits to my grandparents’ house as a boy, I enjoyed many a meal and late-night snack, lazed around reading Spider-Man comics, and worked in the basement on carpentry projects or in the yard trimming the bushes, mowing the lawn, picking tomatoes and digging potatoes. I stopped by recently for a look from the road, no longer gravel but blacktop. The new residents hadn’t replaced the siding on the house, so it was looking a little worse for wear, the chicken coop was gone from the yard, and so were orchard trees and crosses marking the final resting places of pets, but overall this cherished place looked the same. They say you can never return to a place from your distant past because it, or you, will have changed, but for a few moments, that’s exactly what I did.
Note: I wrote this for Medium.com. If you are reading this on another platform, it has been pirated. I quit the Medium Partner Program, so I’m not doing this for money. It is nice, however, to know someone’s reading, so please clap or comment to let me know somebody’s out there. Gladius adhuc lucet.
